Delia (October): How to Keep Your Nerve Onstage

BBC Proms, Royal Albert Hall: BBC Symphony Orchestra UK premiere of Skyline Concerto for 3 Percussionists and Timpani by Édith Canat de Chizy

Credit: Thoroughly Good

"Do you feel the adrenaline?" Lucy asked me as we waited backstage, standing next to the suited-to-the-nines conductor. A laughably small tinny TV screen was broadcasting 5000 people seated around the stage of the Royal Albert Hall’s BBC Proms back to us in quadratic form; we were about to perform on this iconic platform as the soloists for Édith Chizy Canat de Chizy's Concerto for 3 Percussionists and Timpani – Skyline – with the BBC Symphony Orchestra. A busy stage manager muttered into his headset mic, ready to cue us to walk onto the stage. 

I felt it. The adrenaline. 

Excited, calm, focused, totally in the zone. I felt good. 

But I didn't feel nervous. I liked that Lucy had asked me the right question. It doesn't do to "oxygenate" nerves backstage between performers.

What I was experiencing was a deliberately curated mood, honed and systemised for consistency. 

Maddy Prior MBE

A few years ago, I went on tour for a month with the folk legend Maddy Prior. It was Christmas, and I had a wintry cold that I just could not shift as we ploughed our way through 20 festive shows replete with wind chime galore. The tour manager had quietly made it known to me that I wasn't allowed anywhere near Maddy in case she also caught it and jeopardized the show. 

What I learnt on that tour was frankly a little dangerous as a piece of knowledge. That there was a way to manifest a performance mindset that translated into a temporary physical override of most illnesses, even when I felt pathetically I-should-totally-be-in-bed-sneezing-into-tissues dreadful. Over the tour I tweaked and strategised until night after night I would have a fantastic show (for about 2 hours) and then collapse into the foggy muted illness of the yuletide sniffles once more.  

Under the duress of a heavy, or repetitive touring schedule, I’ve noticed other musicians go into autopilot, let an irritating day's niggles wind their way onto stage, get complacent, or worse, bored. 

Although it wasn't fun to perform whilst ill, I have taken this new knowledge with me to every single show since. I now have something of a ritual:

5:30: No Mental Tabs Open

Leave the stage set ready to play when you walk on. Sticks on the instrument, music in order, drum skins tuned, vibraphone motor plugged in..

5:30pm - Faff and Food

Steam or iron stage clothes, straighten hair, eat a light meal (fish is best for energy, pizza is the worst) that I have pre-prepared and brought with me to maximise time

6-6:30pm - Power Down

Completely stop. Sleep (or just lie on the floor, cover your eyes and do absolutely nothing - my body always weirdly "wakes me up" after exactly 29 minutes even though I set a 30-minute timer) 

6:30pm -  Physically Transform Yourself

Have a cup of tea, makeup, style hair and top up outfit steaming. The transformative power of the “costume” is important.

7pm - Mentally Transform

“The fall in love with music warm up” - I play my practice pad along to Spotify playlists that I adore in my headphones. The ones that make me wanna sing, move, groove, delight and dance like no-one's watching.

7:25pm - Buzzing

Side of stage with other performers..my mood is playful, open, maybe I am tapping or shaking my hands which are now whizzing with energy, or perhaps dancing a little - I am “up”. 

7:30pm - Power Walk 

I walk onto stage confidently with a smile and take in the energy of the room.

I am completely in the zone, music flowing through me, heart open; "music is an act of generosity" is my mindset.

And somehow, everything is OK. Zinging.

I know it can be annoying to play the practice pad, antisocial or even deeply uncool in a rock-'n'-roll green room to take a nap, or potentially even embarrassing to do all of this. It can seem like overkill. But it consistently works.

Sometimes I don't have time for the whole thing (although I have been challenging short turnarounds between rehearsals and concerts wherever I can for this reason). Sometimes the sleep and warm up are just 2 minutes if they have to be, and the hair is somewhat wild, and the makeup is a swift swipe of lipstick..but it all still happens in this order. 

Stevens & Pound on tour with Sinfonia Cymru

Photo credit: Kirsten McTernan

Yes, nerves can catch anyone out anytime, and humble you, and what I do prepare my mental and physical state for the stage might not work for someone else at all. But if you are a performer, I would encourage you not to leave this "performance mode" to chance or the whims of the day.